by Dr. Seth

Jo and Mack jaunted happily into the Dark Horseís kitchen to procure some whipped cream, and found Duane solemnly drinking a non-alcoholic beer.

"Hey, whaterya doiní here?" Mack grunted.

"We just saw you with your ladyfriend down in Chinatown!" Joís breasts had a habit of pointing in opposite directions when she was confused because she never wore a bra, and they were practically going haywire.

"What? Iíve been here the whole time! Iím trying to figure out how to rescue Erika. Word is sheís been kidnapped and I just gotta find out who did it." Duane smirked.

"But we just saw you with Erika!" Mack whined.

"That can only mean one thing! Since Iím being written by the stupid people who wrote the magma men episode, and theyíre lazy and are trying to cut corners, I will suddenly automatically know that it was the Legion, and I will go to their semi-secret hideout!" Duane leapt to his feet and ran to the Big Guy bay.


Big Guy and Rusty burst into the Legionís headquarters and found a very, very strange sight. There, on an overturned robot that had been hastily assembled into a makeshift couch, were what appeared to be Duane and Dr. Slate, locked in a passionate embrace. The Legion, obviously at the controls, stood there, embarrassed beyond belief. Those who could see Duaneís face in the monitor could see his jaw drop and his eyes widen in disbelief. Rustyís voice was like a gunshot in the dead of night.

"SEEEEE!!! I TOLD YOU SO, BIG GUY!! DUANE AND SLATE! SITTING IN A TREE! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!!" His voice echoed throughout the Legionís hideout.

"Itís not a date!!!" all of the Legionnaires shrieked in unison.

"FOR   THE   LOVE   OF   MIKE!!!!!" Big Guy shook his mighty steel fists.

In a fit of desperation, Number One ripped off Number Fourís skin. "Heís a naked robot now! You have to kill him! Itís Robot Rule Number Four!" Number One cried out.

"What...what do you mean, Robot Rule Number Four?" Big Guy, obviously still in shock, wasnít quite remembering the Five Rules of Robotics.

"Rule number one- Robots never hurt humans. Rule number two- Robots must obey what humans tell them, except when it would conflict with the first rule. Rule number three- A robot must protect itself except when protection conflicts with the first and second rules. Rule number four- When a robotís skin falls off, and itís evil, it must die. Rule number five- Shut yer damn pie hole." The entire Legion Ex Machina, Rusty, and even Dr. Slate chanted the Five Rules of Robotics together.

"Gee, Big Guy, how can you forget the Robot Rules? Itís like youíre almost human...." Rusty chided his large friend. "You know, I always thought that you and Dr. Slate would have made a better couple than her and Duane." This gave the Legionnaires an idea -- having Slate date Big Guy was practically like having Slate date Duane!

"What a great idea! For once, you said something that made sense!" Number Three announced. Dr. Slateís eyes were bulging in incredulity.

"Ummm...." Big Guyís baritone was reduced to a mere rumble. "Robots donít date humans. Look, we just came here to rescue Dr. Slate. You can just go on playing your weird robot games, and weíll leave you in peace."

"Youíre no fun!" A naked Number Four groused.

"This is absurd!" Dr. Slate mumbled through her gag.

"Weíll make you a deal..." Number One steepled his fingers together ominously. "Weíll leave New Tronic alone if you, the BGY-11, agree to go out with Dr. Slate here."

"Sweet Jebuz!" Duane cried from within the cockpit. Well, this would be better than nothing. He flicked on the microphone. "Ok, Legion Ex Machina. Weíll play your little game!"

The Legionnaires all did cartwheels of joy around and around and around...


Big Guyís massive fingers pinched the small wrought iron chair and pulled it out from the matching table with a squeal. Dr. Slate took her seat, and Big Guy, much too large to ever fit into the tiny chairs, had to squat next to the table.

"Um, your menus..." A nervous waiter scampered into his gigantic shadow and handed them both menus.

"So..." Big Guy tried to keep his voice low and intimate, but it was impossible. "Nice little cafť."

"Letís just get this over with," Dr. Slate grumbled, warily eyeing the Legion Ex Machina, all perched at the next table over, watching the proceedings with dreamy expressions on their faces.

"Cue the cupid!" Number Four suddenly screamed.

"Oh, donít you think thatís a bit premature?" Number Two scowled.

"I just canít wait!" Number Four eagerly squealed as Rusty swooped down, wearing only a diaper and some little fluffy cherubís wings, and shot Big Guy with a little toy arrow.


(Yay! The bad fanfic is over! Sorry the endingís so lame, I just couldnít think of any other way to end it...In fact, I wrote further than the original story,

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